


Lion of a Different Color

by molmcmahon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mpreg, R plus L equals J, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-26 10:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12056640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molmcmahon/pseuds/molmcmahon
Summary: Harlan Tyrell, the second son of Olenna Tyrell, goes to King’s Landing, arriving right at the city when the Lannisters start sacking it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own either HP or Game of Thrones. This story will have mpreg in it.

Harlan Tyrell, secondborn son of Olenna and Luthor Tyrell, was a quiet babe. He was Olenna’s third child and second son, after Mace. He was strange though, his golden eyes were old and yet young at the same time as he grew older. Olenna came to prefer him over her first son, even wishing that he had been her first born. But there was nothing to do except love him. 

He had untamable black hair, rare for a Tyrell, but their bannerman came to call him the Black Rose. Horses, dogs and cats took to him easily enough as he learned how to ride and how to hawk with his father. He even brought home a baby hawk when he was ten and three, a pure white hawk that Harlan named Hedwig. 

When he started to have strange growing pains after his fourteenth name day, Olenna called for the maester. For some men had been known to be able to carry children. It was rare in the North, some maesters thought it had to do with the rough landscape of the North, and it was a gift that was growing even scarce here in the South. 

The maesters of Westeros had never been able to figure out what brought about the gift but some people thought it had to do with the children of the forest. Some thought it was due to having Valyrian blood spread about in Westeros. Others just plain thought it strange and weird, thought that men who had the ability to carry babes were devilborn and were men to stay away from.

Others thought it was a blessed gift from the Mother and Father. 

Olenna watched as Maester Lomys looked Harlan over, her son looking right at the maester with thoughtful eyes. Lomys felt around Harlan’s stomach, asking her son if he felt any pain or anything that might indicate unusual body parts. Harlan’s white hawk was on its perch by the window, chirping in its’ own language.

“Mother?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Would it be so bad if I was devilborn? You’ll still love me?”

Olenna frowned, her eyes narrowing. Devilborn was the derogatory term for men who could carry children. “I will still love you, sweetling. And don’t use that term again. It is witchborn.”

Harlan nodded, his golden eyes lit up with joy. 

“You are correct, Lady Olenna. Your second son is witchborn,” Maester Lomys said. “Would you like me to look for some suitable suitors?”

Olenna studied Harlan, as his son got up off the chair that he was sitting on and went over to stroke his hawk. There was something about him, something that made her think that he was here for a greater purpose than to marry a lowborn man or infertile woman. “No. I will let him look when the time comes.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

Harry looked between Storm’s End, the castle that Mace was putting to the siege, and to where King’s Landing was. Stannis was Robert’s brother and so was fighting on the rebel’s side. Hedwig flew above him, killing any and all ravens that flew out of the castle. The Redwyne fleet, his lady mother’s fleet, had cut off the bay from trade, thus making it so that the castle would not receive any food.

He peered to the north, to King’s Landing and then back to his brother. Lord Mace Tyrell wasn’t the greatest military commander in Westeros but he had the greatest army behind him. If it hadn’t been for his witchborn blood, he might have commanded at least one of the armies that Mace had assembled.

Granted, being able to bear children wasn’t that unusual for him to begin with since he knew that wizards in his past life could, assuming they were powerful enough. The thing that made him even more unusual in this life was his magic. His magic that was just now telling him to go to King’s Landing.

  
  


* * *

 

 

Jaime gazed down at the body of the king he had pledged to defend and guard. King Aerys was dead, his corpse lying on the floor and blood was steadily pouring out. Aerys had not been reborn a dragon, as he had so hoped. And Jaime was very much relieved, for he would not have known what to do if Aerys had done the very thing he had hoped to do.

_ Burn them all. Burn them all. _

He knew that his father was leading men right now into the city. He knew that Prince Rhaegar was dead, had died on the Trident. 

The bodies of the two pyromancers were in front of the throne as well. Jaime’s white cloak was splattered, stained, with blood, red droplets coating it. He was so deep in his thoughts that he did not hear the door to the Red Keep open nor did he hear booted footsteps walk across the throne room.

“Ser Jaime?”

King Aerys had made it clear that he was to stay by his side throughout the war, throughout hearing that Prince Rhaegar had died on the Trident. The king had wanted to use Jaime as a hostage, to force his father to fight for him. And now… Lannisters were fighting through the remaining Targaryen bannermen.

Ser Jonothor and Ser Lewyn had died too, his brothers who hadn’t paid him much mind when he had asked to take their place. Better to fight with Prince Rhaegar than to be facing his father now. 

“Ser Jaime!”

He looked up to see Ser Harlan Tyrell, the Black Rose, for his black hair. The man wore a green cloak over his shoulders and armor that moved with his body. The man’s golden eyes were wary, looking at him and beyond him at the body of the king.

“You’re the witchborn Tyrell, aren’t you?”

Harlan nodded. “What happened to the king?”

“I killed him.” Jaime waited to see if there was any judgement from Harlan.

Harlan’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at the bodies of the pyromancers. “I am not going to judge you, if that’s what you’re waiting for. The king was going to die anyway, whether by your father’s hand or someone else’s. I am only here to get the Princesses and Prince out and back to Dorne.”

“I-”

A scream interrupted Jaime and his heart started to beat quickly, recognizing Princess Elia’s voice. 

“Help me get them out?” Harlan asked, already taking a step towards the door that took them further into the keep. The blade at Harlan’s waist twinkled in the sunlight as a sunbeam from a window hovered over it, the rubies on the hilt shining.

“You’re a liability, Ser Harlan. You witchborn people always are.”

“Being witchborn is not a liability, Ser Jaime. It just means that I can bear children, have a family. That’s not a bad thing, is it?”

Another scream tore through the air and Jaime flinched, seeing Ser Harlan move through the door already. He followed the man, his hand on his blade.

“Princess Rhaenys’ room is that way,” Jaime whispered urgently as they took the stairs at a run. “Elia’s is to the left. She had Prince Aegon with her when I last checked. I will meet you there.”

Harlan nodded and took off to the right, towards where Rhaenys was. Jaime took a left, heading to the Dornish Princess’ quarters were. Several Targaryen bannermen were lying on the stone hallway between him and Elia, their sightless eyes looking up at him. They had all been bludgeoned to death, reminding Jaime of… His eyes widened as he thought of when he had last seen Gregor Clegane.

He raced up ahead when he heard another scream.

  
  


* * *

 

 

Harry ran through the door to the left, heading up another set of stairs to where Jaime had directed him to Rhaenys’ room. He drew Gryffindor’s sword, which had come to him a few years ago, and cut and fought his way through the Lannister bannermen ahead of him. They were clad in red, a gold lion on their shields, and their spears and swords were dipped in red. Blood dripped off their weapons and Harry flinched, stepping into a corner to avoid them.

Memories of his last battle at Hogwarts flashed through his mind but he shrugged them off. He cast a blasting charm towards the last group of men and ran right into Rhaenys’ room, seeing Ser Amory Lorch yanking the young girl up and out of bed.

“Put the girl down,” Harry ordered, his heart clenching at the fear on Rhaenys’ face. 

“Ah, the Black Rose. What are you going to do? You’re the first witchborn man I’ve met. Shall we see what kind of parts you have under that tunic?”

Harry let out a hiss of breath then glanced to the open window behind Rhaenys’ bed. Hedwig was hovering just outside, her claws up, ready to slice through anything. He grinned. “How about we don’t and you give me the Princess?”

Ser Amory smirked, baring his teeth and then screamed. Hedwig flew in, speeding right towards his uncovered head and scraped her talons right over his head. Blood immediately poured from the wounds and Ser Amory yelled out, grabbing his sword from its sheath. Harry dove in and caught Rhaenys as she fell, pulling her in as she took shallow, frightened breaths. As Rhaenys was not looking, he cast the killing curse, the sickly green light of the spell speeding right at Ser Amory.

The man keeled over dead, as soon as the curse hit him.

“Hush, sweetling. It’s okay,” Harry whispered, watching as Rhaenys burrowed into him. She was trembling so much so that he feared she would die of fright. “I’ve got you. Shhh.”

“Is Mother…”

“Ser Jaime’s getting her and your brother. Are you okay? Not injured?”

Rhaenys shook her head. “Can we go see Mother now?”

“Yes, of course.”

Harry whistled and took off back through the door, hearing Hedwig’s wings flap through the air as she took off ahead of him. He sidestepped the dead Targaryen and Lannister bannermen, heading right to where Jaime said he would meet him. He heard Jaime before they even turned the corner and arrived at Princess Elia’s room, hearing Jaime’s voice yell out and the clash of metal upon metal sounded in the hallway.

Harry stopped in the doorway, his eyes widening and his heart racing at the sight before them. Jaime was fighting Gregor Clegane and the lone knight of the kingsguard was already injured, blood pouring down from his left shoulder. 

Princess Elia was on the stone floor, weeping over… the body of Prince Aegon. The infant boy was still, lying on the cold stone but Harry squinted, reaching out with his magic and… Yes, Aegon was still alive, mayhaps he was stunned. Harry’s stomach roiled at the thought of something worse happening to Aegon and Rhaenys cried out in his arms. Elia startled up, peering over at Harry and Rhaenys, her eyes red with tears.

Harry stared at Jaime and Clegane, seeing Jaime sway a little as he blocked a blow from the Mountain, then stepped up, stopping a little bit behind Jaime. “Do we need to keep him alive?”

“No!” Elia shouted. “He killed my child. He…”

“Mama!” Rhaenys yelled out.

“Hold on, Rhaenys,” Harry spoke, stumbling back a little bit when Jaime threw an arm across Rhaenys, stopping them from going to Elia. “Alright.”

He whispered the curse again, again watched as the sickly green light race towards Clegane. Harry directed the spell right through one of the openings of Clegane’s armor and a second after the curse hit, the Mountain keeled over, right towards them. Harry quickly moved Rhaenys into one arm and tugged Jaime back, over to the other side, as they watched Gregor Clegane fall onto the stone floor with a thunk.

They all stared dazedly at the body of the Mountain then Jaime fell into him. Harry startled but wrapped an arm around the man, lowering Rhaenys to the floor so that she could go to her mother. “Jaime?”

“Go! You need to get Princess Elia out of here,” Jaime spoke, his voice shaky as he slumped further into Harry. “Leave me.”

“Not going to leave you,” Harry grumbled, looking over to where Elia was. “Princess Elia… Can you walk?”

Elia glanced up at them, her arms tight around Rhaenys. Her dark eyes were sorrowful, full of grief but there was a determination in them too, as she carefully stood up. “I can. Let’s go. Ser Jaime, are you...”

“It’s not fatal,” Harry offered, peering down at Jaime’s left shoulder. Jaime’s armor on his shoulder was dented, showing where a dagger was impaled in his flesh. Odd, since Harry didn’t think a dagger was a weapon that the Mountain used. “I do need to look at it quickly though and Elia...”

“Ser Harlan?” Elia questioned, raising an eyebrow at his thoughtful tone.

“Aegon is still alive,” Harry said, peering at Jaime in his arms and cautiously backing up so that the other knight could lean against the wall. Harry quickly walked over to where Aegon lay, placing a hand on the infant’s pulse point on his small wrist. Aegon’s pulse was slow but there. Harry quickly cast a few charms, mostly healing, to mend the wound on the boy’s head. Harry nodded to himself, hearing Hedwig trill out an alarm.

Elia cried out and immediately ran over to him, scooping up Aegon in her arms. “Thank the gods. Aegon!”

“Brother!” Rhaenys whispered, ruffling her brother’s tufts of silver hair.

“Let’s get out of here,” Elia murmured, holding Aegon in one arm and her other dropping down to hold Rhaenys’ hand. “Ser Jaime?”

“Leave me here. I will slow you down, Ser Harlan, Princess Elia,” Jaime retorted, coughing.

“You are to stay alive,” Elia spoke, steel in her voice, as she walked over to them. “Live and protect me.”

Jaime blinked, from where Harry was holding him up, then nodded. “Your Grace.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

Harry, Princess Elia, Princess Rhaenys, Prince Aegon and Jaime left through one of the capital’s smaller gates on horseback. Jaime had said, before passing out, that a wheelhouse would be too suspicious so they stole three horses, with the third being in a pack string.

Rhaenys and Aegon were riding with Elia and Jaime had passed out, slumped against Harry’s back.


	2. Chapter 2

Elia led the party through the kingswood, with Harlan riding next to her. Jaime was passed out behind Harry, the Tyrell boy having hastily bandaged his wound an hour ago. The sun was going down as they rode and they were now looking for somewhere to bed down for the night.

“The hawk,” Elia spoke, watching as the white hawk spiraled down to them from a tree top. Rhaenys had woken up a few minutes ago and was peering at the animal intently with bright eyes. Aegon was still asleep, the two of them having agreed that the cry of a baby would bring unwanted attention now. “She’s beautiful.”

“She’s been my friend for a long time,” Harry replied, shifting a little to look at the wound on Jaime’s shoulder. Elia saw him frown before turning back to look at her. “Hedwig will take watch first when we sleep for the night. She has good vision.”

“Your father… Lord Luthor Tyrell died several years ago, didn’t he?” Elia asked, remembering Aerys mention something along the lines of the Tyrell lord dying.

“He did. He died a year or two after my sister was born,” Harry said, gesturing ahead of them to the small clearing. They were almost out of the kingswood, the forest that was south of King’s Landing but he figured it would be best to remain in the wooded area. Less chance of being seen that way. “Besides, I prefer my mother, Olenna. That clearing should do it.”

Elia frowned, glancing down at Rhaenys and Aegon. Her children meant the world to her, after losing her husband and her good mother. “Thank you, Ser Harlan.”

“What for?”

“For rescuing Rhaenys and helping to get us out,” Elia offered, following Harry as he rode into the small clearing and stopped his horse. “I don’t know what I would have done if you and Jaime hadn’t… been there.”

Harry dipped his head in a nod, shuddered and dismounted with ease. “You’re welcome. Did you hear anything from the Mountain before he tried to… kill you?”

Elia shuddered. “I did not.”

Harry peered up at her, placing a hand on Jaime’s back as the knight slumped over. Elia watched as the Black Rose pulled something out of one of his pockets, a piece of cloth, and laid it on the ground near to the edge of the clearing. He murmured something under his breath and then the cloth… Elia’s eyes widened as the cloth moved up, growing and forming into a tent.

“What kind of magic is that?” Elia whispered, staring right at Harry in bewilderment.

“It’s magic,” Harry replied, his lips twitching up into a teasing grin. “It’s my magic. Come on. Let’s get you and the children settled.”

Harry walked over and scooped up little Aegon, cradling the babe within his arms. Elia slipped down easily, having learned to ride when she learned to walk. She pulled Rhaenys down with her, putting her down on the ground. Rhaenys looked at the tent, her purple eyes wide with excitement, as she ran right into the tent. Harry followed Rhaenys, still holding Aegon in his arms, and disappeared briefly, coming back out and walking over to his horse.

“Mother! It’s big in here!” Rhaenys yelled loudly. “Come see!”

Elia laughed, closing her eyes at Rhaenys’ laughter. A groan drew her from her thoughts and she opened her eyes to Harry helping Jaime off their horse and helping him walk into the tent. He had already lead Elia’s horse to a tree, tying it along with his horse, to a string between two trees. 

Elia slowly walked over to the tent door, helping Harry to support their knight into the tent. Jaime was awake, his green eyes wide with pain and she could see some relief in his eyes too. As they stepped through into the tent, Elia stopped at the doorway and stared, blinking in disbelief.

“Harry…”

“It’s bigger on the inside than on the outside, yes. I have a trunk that’s the same way,” Harry offered, sitting Jaime down on a log that was doubling as a seat. There were a few rooms within the tent and one right across from her was one that held a cradle, Aegon curled up within it. Rhaenys was peering down at her brother, rocking his cradle softly. “Come sit. I’ll gather together some food and we can eat and plan.”

“Princess…” Jaime trailed off, his eyes on her. “Are you okay?”

“I…” Elia stopped. “Clegane said something right before he threw me to the ground.”

“He said that Tywin had ordered us to be put to death.”

Jaime’s eyes widened, feeling the color drain from his face, and watched as Harry came over with bowls of stew. It hadn’t taken that long for Harry to put together dinner but there was something strange about him. He had heard him say he had magic but Jaime did not know quite what that meant. “Surely not. My father wouldn’t…”

“He did extinguish House Reyne and Tarbeck,” Harry spoke, shrugging and sitting down next to him and handing him a bowl. “Eat up. I can check your wound afterward.”

“I do not believe he cared about the women and children then,” Elia added, grimacing at the thought. “Why would he now?”

Jaime shivered, memories of his father telling him of the Reyne and Tarbeck revolt flashing through his mind. “I suppose he could have ordered Clegane to do that.”

“Ser Amory Lorch was about to kill Rhaenys too,” Harry said, flinching. “Would have, if I hadn’t gotten there when I did. Lord Tywin could have just been attempting to curry favor with Robert, seeing as the Storm Lord has declared for the throne.”

“His throne would have been based on dead children,” Elia retorted then sighed. Rhaenys ran over to them, sat down next to Elia and Jaime and Harry watched as Elia helped Rhaenys eat a few bites of the stew. “My brothers will be glad to see me.”

Harry nodded and the four of them hunkered down to eat. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

“I should take watch first,” Jaime remarked, as Harry tended to his wound. Elia and her children were asleep in one of the rooms in the tent, the two Targaryens huddled together in a small bed next to the cradle. “I am a knight of the kingsguard.”

“You are injured,” Harry grumbled, casting a cleaning charm on Jaime’s shoulder before nodding to himself. The wound would leave a scar but it wouldn’t hinder Jaime’s ability with a sword. “Hedwig and I will take watch first.”

“You care about me.” Jaime turned to look at Harry, their eyes catching each other’s. 

“You killed the king. I’m not going to judge you for that.”

“I swore an oath,” Jaime muttered. 

“Yes, you did. The king also swore an oath, when he was crowned, and that was to protect his people. He broke it when he started to burn people to death.”

Jaime winced, memories flashing through his eyes.

“Hey. You’re safe here. King Aerys is dead,” Harry murmured. “The realm can start over.”

Jaime snorted. “With Robert?”

Harry laughed. “Hey, he might make a good king. Who knows? I’m just going to get Elia and her children home safely. What about you?”

“Being kingsguard, I ought to make sure the crown prince is okay.”

“You’ll come with us to Dorne?”

“I will stay with Princess Elia and her children and protect them,” Jaime said, looking over to where they were sleeping. “Which route were you planning on taking?”

“Do you have a suggestion?”

“Rhaegar did say he had left Lady Lyanna at the Tower of Joy,” Jaime said, shrugging then wincing at the pull in his shoulder. “Mayhaps Arthur, Oswell and Gerold are there too. They were not at the Trident with Rhaegar.”

“Alright. We’ll go that way then.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

They arrived at the Tower of Joy within two days as they had children with them. Jaime led the way on the third horse, insisting on riding in front and making sure the way was safe. When they rode up the small hill and stopped, Jaime rode ahead to see who was in the Tower. The sun was beaming down on them, the foothills that led into Dorne surrounding them. The desert was just beginning to show itself, trees changing and the other plant life changing into desert plants and trees.

Harry and Elia waited with Rhaenys and Aegon, exchanging a glance a minute or two then urged both their horses ahead. Elia grinned when they saw what awaited them, calling out.

“Ser Arthur!”

The three men that stood in front of the tower blinked, their eyes going wide. Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Gerold Hightower and Ser Oswell Whent of the kingsguard all stood in front of them. Jaime had dismounted and was talking with Arthur.

“Princess Elia!” Arthur yelled back, his eyes going wider when he saw Aegon and Rhaenys. “You live!”

“Yes, we do,” Elia responded, dismounting alongside Rhaenys. Harry was holding Aegon in his arms and he slipped down to the ground, the babe looking up at everything. “Thanks to Ser Jaime and Ser Harlan.”

Arthur quickly walked over and pulled Elia into a hug and Rhaenys ran right over to Ser Oswell, the intimidating kingsguard knight scooping the princess up and hefting her up into the air. Rhaenys giggled with joy.

Arthur smiled, peering over at Harry and the babe in his arms. “The Black Rose?”

Harry rolled his eyes but nodded. “Yes, that would be me. You can call me Harry though.”

“Thank you so much,” Ser Arthur said, his blue eyes bright with joy. “We did not think to hope that someone cared about them as much as we did.”

“You thought I was lying?” Jaime questioned, gesturing to Elia and the kids. Rhaenys was now ‘flying’ through the air, held by Oswell. Gerold Hightower, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, called the White Bull, was smiling, watching as Elia and the kids laughed with joy.

Arthur shook his head. “No, but your House…”

“I am a knight of the kingsguard,” Jaime spoke, grimacing. “My house… My father… I do not care about them anymore.”

“What happened?” Ser Gerold asked, looking between them.

A cry split the air and Harry peered up at the tower, raising an eyebrow.

“Lady Lyanna is in there,” Ser Oswell said. “She is in labor.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Is she in trouble?”

“The midwife hustled us out of there,” Arthur remarked, frowning. “Lyanna’s been crying out too many times to be normal.”

“I can go help,” Harry offered, glancing to Elia and passing Aegon to Arthur’s hold. “Are you three going to come to Dorne with us?”

Ser Gerold nodded. “We will protect the remaining Targaryens.”

Arthur and Oswell nodded. 

Harry nodded, already hastening past the kingsguard knights and up the tower. He glanced behind him when he heard footsteps and saw Elia follow. He stared at her. “I thought you wouldn’t approve of helping Lyanna.”

“My husband…” Elia trailed off, wrinkling her nose. “He would not have wanted her to suffer.”

Harry blinked but nodded. “Alright.”

They both ventured up into the tower, stopping in the doorway at the top. There were several maids bustling about, carrying bloodied rags and buckets that were… Harry grimaced and went right over to the bed in the center of the room. Lady Lyanna Stark was on the bed, her cheeks pale and her legs spread in labor. Her eyes were dull with pain and fear but she stilled when she saw Elia and Harlan.

Lyanna stopped pushing when she saw Princess Elia and Ser Harlan in the doorway. 

“My lady, you need to push.”

“I can’t!” Lyanna cried out, trying to curl inward, to avoid the pain. Her vision clouded over with the pain of birth as she glanced down to her legs and to where she could feel… The bed dipped beside her and she looked to where Elia was moving behind her. “Princess!”

“Lyanna,” Elia whispered, moving to wrap her arms around Lyanna. “You need to push. The babe needs to come out and meet the world.”

Ser Harlan too moved over towards them, pulling out a trunk and opening it. “How long has she been in labor?”

“Twenty hours.”

Lyanna could feel Elia’s heart race behind her, could hear Elia gasp. Lyanna grasped Elia’s hand in fright, not wanting to die now. She didn’t want to die when she was this close to meeting her child. Elia went still behind her but then squeezed Lyanna’s hand in reassurance.

Ser Harlan grimaced, pulling out a few vials of something. “You’re losing a lot of blood. Here.”

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur flinched, exchanging a look with Gerold and Oswell. “Your father ordered their deaths.”

Jaime nodded, his heart beating fast, so fast. His father had ordered the deaths of children. “Yes. Ser Harlan and I killed the Mountain and Ser Amory Lorch and then escorted Princess Elia and her children out of King’s Landing. I believe the Robert’s armies were a day's’ ride out so we did not meet with them.”

“And the king?” Gerold questioned, his eyes narrowed.

“I presume the Mountain killed him before I could get to him,” Jaime replied, looking at his kingsguard brothers. He flexed his left hand into a fist, remembering sticking his sword into the king’s back. He knew that right now, Arthur, Gerold and Oswell might not have thought well of him killing the king. Perhaps he would tell them in a few years. “I was running to protect the princesses and prince.”

“Very well. I am glad you helped Elia, Aegon and Rhaenys out,” Arthur spoke, looking at Jaime with narrowed eyes. “They would not have deserved what your father had in store for them.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

“Jon. His name is Jon,” Lyanna whispered, holding her son in her arms. Elia lay next to her and Rhaenys was peering down at her half brother. Aegon was asleep between them. “Jon Targaryen.”

Lyanna froze and looked to Elia, the Dornish princess who also wed Rhaegar. “Elia-”

“Lyanna, I…” Elia trailed off, weary and exhausted. “If you and Rhaegar wed, I am glad for it. Your son will not be a bastard. At the very least, Rhaegar had the mind to not annul our marriage.”

Lyanna sighed, also exhausted from the birth. Baby Jon was already looking for sustenance and Lyanna helped him to a breast. He had her eyes and hair, the Stark look. “He cared for you.”

“Not enough to not take you.”

Ser Harlan excused himself from the room, after cleaning up his healing supplies. Lyanna caught his wistful look as the man peered over at the babes between her and Elia. She dimly remembered that Ser Harlan Tyrell was one of the witchborn men and could bear children. Mayhaps he wanted a family. 

“I am glad that you and your children are safe, Princess Elia,” Lyanna finally spoke, her voice dry. A cough went through her, spiraling into a coughing fit. Elia glanced at her, her black eyes sad then reached over to the table beside the bed. Elia brought the glass of water that Harlan had left and helped Lyanna drink. “I couldn’t bear to think of anything happening to you.”

“Would you and your son like to come with us to Dorne?” Elia finally asked.

Lyanna raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure, my lady?”

“Jon would be safe with us in Dorne. And I suspect that you would not like to marry Robert.”

Lyanna snorted, shaking her head only to drop onto Elia’s shoulder in exhaustion. “I would love to visit Dorne, my princess.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Prince Doran!”

Doran turned to see Areo walk over to him, his captain coming from the big doors to the palace. Hearing news of the Battle at the Trident and the sack of King’s Landing had made his heart worse, had made him want to call his banners and send what remained of them to the capital. His sister was dead. His sister’s children were dead. The Lannisters had never cared about children, had never cared about the women when they were sacking a city or punishing an unruly lesser lord. His brother, Oberyn, was raging by the docks, debating whether or not to buy the services of the Golden Company and prepare for war against the Lannisters.

“Areo? What is it?”

Areo Hotah looked like he had seen a ghost, his olive skin pale and his dark eyes wide. “My prince, your sister… She’s at the gate. Along with four members of the kingsguard.”

Doran’s eyes widened. “Captain?”

Areo dipped his head in an nod. “Your sister’s alive, my lord.”

Doran stared and stood up, following Areo as they left the palace and stood on the steps of the palace. The city of Sunspear lay around them, bustling with life. And… His sister stood at the gate of the palace, Rhaenys at her feet and Aegon in her arms. Ser Jaime Lannister, Ser Harlan Tyrell, Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Arthur Dayne, and Ser Oswell Whent were standing around her.

Lady Lyanna Stark was standing beside Princess Elia too, also holding a babe in her arms.

“Brother!”

“Elia!”

Doran raced over, taking the cobblestone street as fast as his legs allowed and pulled Elia into a tight hug. “Sister… I thought you were dead.”

Elia laughed joyfully, returning the hug just as tightly. “Doran.”

“How? How did you escape?”

Elia pulled back a little, moved little Aegon about in her arms to quiet him down. “Ser Jaime and Ser Harlan helped me. They saved my life and the lives of my children, Doran.”

“Seems like a story,” Doran remarked, kneeling down to scoop Rhaenys up into a hug. Rhaenys squealed out a loud laugh, burrowing into his chest.

“Uncle Doran!”

Doran grinned and turned to see Areo smiling widely as well. “Send for my brother. He’ll want to know Elia’s alive.”

“Of course.”

“Ser Jaime?” Doran echoed, watching as the kingsguard and Ser Harlan approached. “Why don’t we talk in my solar. Ser Arthur, I am glad to see you alive.”

Arthur grinned wearily. “If it had not been for Ser Jaime and Ser Harlan, we probably would have stayed there until Lyanna’s brother came for us.”

“Sister...” Doran spoke, glancing at Elia before staring at Lyanna and the babe in her arms. “Why is Lady Lyanna Stark with you?”

“I invited her, Doran,” Elia said, turning and gesturing for Lyanna to come up to them. As she did, Elia reached out and grasped Lyanna’s hand, seeing the grey eyes widen. “Rhaegar married her before… We are bound.”

“Prince Doran,” Lyanna said quietly. “I hope that my presence here does not cause you too much trouble.”

Doran blinked before nodding. “Very well. You are most welcome to stay with us, Lady Stark. Everyone, come in. I assume it’s been a long journey and we have much to talk about.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

“Prince Doran.”

Doran turned to look at Ser Harlan Tyrell, the very well known Black Rose. “Yes, ser?”

“Do you have a big roost for hawks or hunting birds?” Harlan asked, his golden eyes intent on him.

“Why do you ask?”

“I have a hawk with me,” Harlan replied, gesturing over to the palace wall. Doran followed his gesture and spotted a white hawk, a hawk that was watching them keenly. “She’s a friend.”

“Yes, we do. It’s on the north side of the palace. I have heard of your family’s reputation for hawks and horses,” Doran said, as they followed Elia and Lyanna inside. “I am grateful to you for rescuing my sister and her family.”

The four knights of the kingsguard followed them, silent and weary. Though Doran did notice that Ser Jaime kept glancing at Ser Harlan every now and again as they moved into the palace. The guards all around them looked at them, at their party. Doran knew they must have made quite a sight. 

“It was not a problem,” Ser Harlan responded.

Doran made sure that as they moved into his solar, the doors were closed behind them and that Areo knew to keep anyone but Oberyn out of them. He didn’t want the news of Elia and her children getting out too soon. He knew that Robert would probably make a demand, might even send someone to collect the children.

“He killed Ser Amory Lorch and the Mountain,” Elia spoke as they all found seats around the table. Servants soon found them, asking if they wanted drinks. Nearly everyone asked for water, the kingsguard knights finally sitting down at Elia’s urging. Lyanna sat down next to Elia, their children between them. Rhaenys held little Jon in her arms, her purple eyes glancing down at her half brother. Aegon had fallen asleep in Elia’s lap.

Gerold Hightower stayed by the door, keeping a watch over the group.

“You did?” Doran asked, as Ser Harlan sat down next to Ser Jaime. “That must have been some fight.”

“Ser Jaime did most of the fighting,” Harlan said, gesturing to the knight next to him. “I wasn’t about to let either of his father’s bannermen kill Elia or her children.”

Doran turned to look at Jaime, raising an eyebrow. “Your father?”

“He ordered their deaths,” Jaime offered quietly, sighing. “And Prince Rhaegar told me to protect his family.”

“What of the king?” Doran questioned, looking at the Lannister heir. “King Aerys kept my sister and her children as hostages. What happened to him?”

“Ser Gregor killed him, I assume,” Jaime answered, looking at him without blinking. “I was keeping your sister from dying, Prince Doran.”

Doran stared at him then nodded. “Thank you, ser. I did not think any Lannister held their honor in high regard.”

Jaime blinked, his cheeks reddening a little. “Have you heard any news from Robert or my father?”

Doran turned to Elia and Lyanna, with Ser Arthur, Gerold and Oswell looking on. “Robert has taken the throne, as I suspected. He is due to marry your sister, ser. Cersei Lannister will be queen. They do not know Lyanna is alive.”

Lyanna took a deep breath, exhaling in relief. “Thank the gods for that. I left a letter for my brother at the tower so he and Benjen know I’m alive.”

“Was that wise, my lady?” Doran asked. “Your brother could…”

“I spelled it,” Ser Harlan interrupted, nodding to Doran. “My abilities grant me that much. That letter will only be read by Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell and his brother.”

“Your… abilities?” Doran repeated curiously.

“I am witchborn, as you all know,” Harlan spoke, his golden eyes soft. “I also am… You can call me a sorcerer, a wizard… I can do many things besides bear children.”

“I am aware of you being witchborn,” Doran confirmed. “What else can you do?”

“Heal, protect, bring castles down,” Harlan explained, shrugging. “Among other things.”

“Are you like one of the children of the forest?” Ser Arthur asked, sitting forward in his chair. 

“A little. Some people think that the witchborn folk are descended from the children of the forest. I don’t know where the ability to bear children comes from but I know my magic is different. It comes from something else, something older. Something not of this world.”

Jaime turned to look at Harlan before looking at Doran. “He healed my shoulder, after I was injured by Ser Gregor. It doesn’t even hurt now.”

“Hmmm…” Doran trailed off.

“He helped me birth Jon,” Lyanna spoke, glancing to Ser Harlan with a grateful look in her grey eyes. “Thank you, ser.”

“You’re welcome,” Harlan said, dipping his head in a nod. “Princess Elia, what would you like to do, with regards as to your children?”

Doran looked at his sister. “Robert does want them dead. Unfortunately, he put out a bounty for them. That much I know.”

“What about Elia herself?” Lyanna asked, raising an eyebrow. “Does Robert want her dead?”

“We would not let that happen, regardless,” Ser Arthur said, speaking before whatever Doran was about to say. “My lady, we would die before letting either you or your children die and that goes for you too, Lyanna.”

“Should we go to war now?” Lyanna asked, brushing some of her dark hair out of her face and glancing to Rhaenys and Aegon. “Is Dorne capable of protecting us?”

Doran wrinkled his nose at the suggestion that Dorne wasn’t capable. “My lady, we held off the dragons. If Robert tries to force the issue, he will have a hard time of it. For now, we will close our borders. I will let our bannermen know to be on the lookout for strange folk.”

“We could wait,” Harlan suggested, raising an eyebrow in thought. “Wait until the children are old enough to sit the throne and then mount an invasion. The gods know if Robert will be a good king but having seen him from afar… He will make a mistake.”

“He’s a soldier, not a prince, not a king,” Ser Arthur remarked. 

“A good soldier does not make a good king,” Harlan added, taking a sip of his water. “Prince Doran, if you are in need of more information…”

Doran turned to look at the Black Rose, raised an eyebrow.

“My mother can be a good source of information,” Harlan said, looking at Jaime before turning to look at Elia and Lyanna. “If the Lady Stark wants to pass letters to her brothers up north, Lady Olenna would make it so.”

“Thank you for the offer,” Lyanna replied, covering up a yawn with her hand. Princess Elia’s dark eyes softened as she watched the other woman then stood up, handing Aegon over to Doran, who gladly took his nephew.

“Come, Lyanna,” Elia said, holding out an arm. “I will show you to your room. Doran, I shall put her in the room next to mine.”

“Very well. I know it likely has been a long trip.”

Doran peered down at little Aegon, the little tufts of silver hair on his head short but growing. He saw Lyanna take Elia’s arm before the she wolf hesitantly let baby Jon into Ser Harlan’s arms. Harlan peered down at the babe with wistful eyes before holding the child to his chest, Jon’s little head on his shoulder.

“ELIA!”

“Seven help us,” Doran muttered, glancing up to the door as it was pushed open, hard.

 

* * *

 

 

“Your brother?” Harry asked, grinning a little at Doran’s look. Ser Arthur and Ser Gerold all followed Elia and Lyanna, still knights of the kingsguard guarding their charge. Ser Oswell stayed with the kids, watching over Rhaenys, Aegon and Jon.

“Oberyn.”

“Prince Doran,” Jaime started.

“Yes, ser Jaime?”

“Any news of my father? With my sister marrying Robert and no news of me…”

Doran sighed, his eyes looking on Jaime. “Your father is due to remarry. No other news.”

Harry turned to look at Jaime, hearing the other man let out a strangled breath. “Don’t you have a brother? Tyrion?”

“Yes. However, my father hates Tyrion,” Jaime spoke, shuddering a little. “He thinks Tyrion killed our mother and he hates him for being a dwarf. Not proper for a lion, he thinks.”

Doran’s eyes narrowed as he stood up, holding little Aegon in his arms. Rhaenys was at his feet, her eyes wide with excitement at seeing her uncle. “You will always have a place here, Ser Jaime. We can do that much for the knight who saved my sister.”

“Thank you.”

Harry sighed, watched as Prince Oberyn went to embrace his sister. “I don’t exactly have respect for my brother but you sound like you actually like your brother.”

“Tyrion’s smart,” Jaime offered, as Doran walked out of the solar. “He’s young and has a fascination with dragons. I do not believe he killed our mother. That was not his fault.”

“It never is,” Harry said quietly, shifting Jon in his lap a little as the boy moved.


	4. Chapter 4

“My lady.”

Olenna glanced up at Maester Lomys, raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“I have a letter from your son,” Lomys answered, walking over to her table and handing the parchment to her. “It has his personal sigil on it. The two black roses.”

Olenna glanced down at the parchment, studied the seal. Harlan’s personal sigil, two black roses on a green field, was on top of it, keeping the letter closed. “Was this delivered by his bird?”

“No. It was just a regular raven. I presume his hawk is with him,” Lomys said. “That bird is strangely loyal to your son.”

Olenna’s lips twitched up into a grin and opened the letter.

_ Dear Mother, _

_ As you may have heard by now, Dorne has closed its’ borders. And that Princess Elia, Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon are gone. I have had a hand in that business but you probably already knew that. The Lannisters… They were going to kill Rhaegar’s wife and their children. I wasn’t about to let that happen. _

_ When I happened upon the throne room in the Red Keep, Ser Jaime was on the throne, having killed the king. I don’t know if that has become public, if anyone besides Jaime and I know about that. Everyone probably thinks that Jaime was remiss in his duties and was guarding the Princess and her family. _

_ Ser Jaime was of the same mind as me and he and I rescued the Dornish Dragons. We took them to Dorne, stopping by the Tower of Joy on the way. This cannot be public news but Lady Lyanna Stark and Prince Rhaegar were married during the Rebellion. Lyanna conceived a child, a boy, who is Rhaegar’s third child and second son, Prince Jon Targaryen.  _

_ Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold of the kingsguard came with us to guard the Targaryen children and Elia. Ser Jaime obviously came with us and we are now, all of us, in the Dornish capital of Sunspear. Prince Doran was overjoyed to see his sister and his niece and nephew and welcomed all of us.  _

_ For now, I plan on staying in Dorne and protecting the Targaryens too. Lady Lyanna has no plans on going back to Westeros, to the North, on account of not wanting to marry King Robert. I’ve heard that the Baratheon king plans on marrying Lady Cersei Lannister and that Tywin is to remarry. Any news on the Lannisters would be welcome in the times to come. _

_ You’ll probably hear from Prince Doran too, in the next few years. We have decided to wait until the children are old enough to sit the throne before beginning war. None of us believe that King Robert will be a good king. _

_ I hope you are doing well and that my siblings are well. I also hope that Willas is doing well. He’s ten and two this year, isn’t he?  _

_ Love, _

_ Harlan Tyrell _

 

Olenna finished reading the letter, grinning. Harry had always been her favorite son, preferred over Mace. She had not known that Jaime Lannister had been the one to kill Aerys but it made sense. Jaime had been young to join the kingsguard, at a mere ten and five. And with what she had heard, the heir to Casterly Rock had had to choose between following oaths for the kingsguard and listening to his father.

King Robert had been furious to learn that Dorne had closed its’ borders, had probably guessed that that was where Princess Elia and Rhaegar’s children were. Olenna didn’t quite know what Robert was going to do but if it came to war, the Tyrells would either have no part in it or side with the Dornish and the dragons.

Mayhaps it would be good to introduce herself to Lord Tywin. If Ser Jaime was in Dorne and her own son was there, it might be good in the long run to have a relationship with Casterly Rock. It certainly seemed like Harry was settling in for a good relationship with Casterly Rock himself.

  
  


* * *

 

 

The sound of steel sliding out from a sheath drew Jaime’s attention a few days after arriving in Dorne. Elia had taken Lyanna on a tour of Sunspear, the two women having taken to each other easily enough. Rhaenys, Aegon and Jon were being looked after by the septa and Oberyn for the day, leaving their mothers time off. 

The kingsguard had split, two following Elia and Lyanna and two watching over the children. Doran had assured Jaime and Oswell that House Martell’s guards would watch over the children and had given them time off. Oswell had spoken of going into the city to fetch supplies, which left Jaime with idle time. His feet had taken him to the field behind the barracks, where most of the guards practiced. 

Ser Harlan- Harry- was standing in the middle of the practice field, sitting down on the stone bench and cleaning his sword. His hawk was in the tree behind him. Jaime hesitated before walking over to stand before the other man. 

“Your brother did not win a battle in the war,” Jaime started, thinking of the fights that led to to Robert taking the throne. 

Harry peered up at him, shook his head. “No. Mace doesn’t have much military training and he did not become a knight before he became a lord. I’m the only knight of Lady Olenna’s children.”

“I do not believe Prince Rhaegar much respected your brother.”

Harry let out a huff of quiet laughter under his breath. “I don’t respect him much either but don’t tell him that.”

Jaime laughed. “The bannermen of House Tyrell won that battle, didn’t they?”

“The battle of Ashford, yes. Lord Randyll Tarly won that fight. You were at King’s Landing still for that?”

Jaime nodded as he peered down at the sword in Harry’s lap. “Is that valyrian steel?”

Harry blinked at the change in conversation but didn’t comment. “It is… something like valyrian steel. It is strong enough to be valyrian steel.”

“What do you mean by something like valyrian steel?”

Harry stood up, the sword held in his left hand, and held it out to him. “Just don’t touch the blade.”

Jaime stared at him, taking the blade by the hilt and looking it over. It was a beautiful blade, shimmering in the early afternoon sun. The rubies at the hilt seemed to glow in the sunlight. It had an inscription on the blade itself, an inscription that was in another language entirely, one that didn’t look like Valyrian. “Poisoned? Do you fight like Elia’s brother then?”

“It was poisoned. I should clean it though,” Harry said, rocking back on his heels. “Cleaning it would take certain materials and at present, I don’t have them. I don’t like to fight dirty but I will if I have to.”

Jaime definitely agreed with that sentiment, memories of sticking his sword into the king’s back flashing through his mind.

“Certain materials?”

“I can create a number of potions,” Harry offered hesitantly, looking at Jaime to see his reaction. 

“Potions? Like the milk of the poppy?”

“Not quite. Mine are definitely more… effective. The kind I can make for pain doesn’t make you light headed.” 

  
  


* * *

 

 

Harry idly walked through the paths surrounding the palace in Sunspear, the night sky overhead. The moon was bright, bright enough to be full this night. Hedwig trilled down at him, having followed him from the rookery north of the palace. He looked up at the stars then at the horizon, wondering what his future would bring. 

It had been a week since they had settled into Sunspear. Prince Doran had easily given everyone rooms, with the knights of the kingsguard sleeping in the barracks with Areo, the captain of Doran’s guard. 

Dinner had just been an hour before and both women had put their children to bed. Elia had hoped to regain a normal routine, one akin to what the children had before the sack of King’s Landing. Rhaenys, Aegon and Jon had become inseparable though Jon was more quiet than the other two children. It seemed like the boy had inherited more of the Stark traits than Targaryen, with his grey eyes and dark hair.

Hedwig let out a quiet warning call, drawing Harry out of his thoughts. He turned around, looking towards where his feet had taken him and saw the barracks in front of him. Ser Jaime was walking his way, the white cloak billowing in the evening breeze. Harry waited until Jaime was a few feet away before calling out.

“Something wrong?” 

Jaime peered at him, his green eyes weary. “No. There’s nothing wrong.”

Harry raised an eyebrow then shrugged. “Is this your night off or something?”

“Gerold, Arthur and Oswell are guarding the children,” Jaime replied, starting to walk again on the path. 

Harry nodded, falling into line with the other man. “You sound unsure about something.”

Jaime turned to look at him, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t know how to feel about my father getting remarried.”

“Doran didn’t say that you had been disinherited,” Harry offered, seeing the ocean come into view. The castle of Sunspear had the water to three sides of it, with the shadow city on the fourth side. “Do you think that your father knows what you did?”

“I don’t know what my father thinks,” Jaime muttered, stopping to lean against a tree. “The evidence would suggest that I got Elia and her children out of the capital though. No one else could have slipped past the Lannister guards unless it was another Lannister.”

“Is Lord Tywin really that hellbent on disregarding your brother? Tyrion’s a dwarf. It’s not like he has greyscale or something that would kill him.”

Jaime rolled his eyes. “My father… and my sister both think Tyrion killed our mother. Joanna died birthing Tyrion so it makes sense in their eyes. I even caught Cersei hurting him before Elia and her brother came to Casterly Rock.”

“Right. I heard that Elia was offered to you,” Harry said, holding out his arm for Hedwig to land on. He didn’t have his leather guard on but Hedwig knew enough by now that digging her claws into his skin hurt. She landed lightly on his outstretched arm, crooned, all hawk pride. He laughed and stroked her wings. “Your sister was hurting him?”

Jaime stared at him, his eyes studying Hedwig. “She was pinching his legs and calling him a demon. I stopped her. I think… I don’t know what will happen to my brother now. My sister and father don’t really care for him.”

“He’s ten, isn’t he? I remember my mother telling me of the birth.”

Jaime nodded. 

“Fostering age.”

“Lord Tywin won’t allow anyone to foster Tyrion, dwarf or not,” Jaime replied, sighing a little. 

Harry idly nodded back, thinking of his mother and her ways. “For all I know, my mother is working her magic right now.”

Jaime turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Not my magic. I don’t think there’s anyone like me in Westeros or Essos,” Harry spoke, watching the moon above them. It had cooled off significantly at night in the city while it was hot during the day. Not unusual for desert weather, he thought. “My lady mother’s called the Queen of Thorns, you know?”

“Where does your magic come from?” Jaime asked. “If not from here?”

Hedwig let out a quiet screech and took off from Harry’s arm, flying up to a tree branch. 

“I… Not from anywhere near here obviously. It came from before,” Harry offered. “It’s definitely not related to being witchborn but it’s… maybe akin to the magic of the children of the forest. Though it’s so much more than that.”

“Nothing like pyromancers then.”

Harry studied Jaime, hearing the weary undercurrent in the other man’s voice. “Those two men on the floor next to the throne… Were they pyromancers?”

 

* * *

 

 

Jaime stared at Harry before nodding slightly. “They were.”

Harry blinked, inhaling sharply. “The king.”

“He was going to burn King’s Landing. He had already had wildfire placed around the city in key places,” Jaime whispered.

Harry stared at him, aghast. “What’s the population of King’s Landing?”

“Half a million.”

Harry continued to stare at him. “You’re not japing, are you?”

Jaime shook his head.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? Surely Arthur, Oswell and Gerold would understand that you made a hard choice.”

“I made an oath to protect the king and I killed him. No one is going to understand that.”

“He was about to kill everyone in the capital! One life or 500,000.” Harry was looking at him like he understood him, not like he was about to mock him or call him kingslayer.

“People like Lord Stark or my brothers of the kingsguard wouldn’t. They’re all about honor and obeying your king and your oath. Lord Stark probably would have had me either killed or sent to the Wall.”

Harry’s eyes were still narrowed in disbelief. “Well then. Thank you.”

“For what? I betrayed my oaths.”

“You saved 500,000 lives, Jaime. Don’t belittle that achievement.”

Jaime stared at Harry, mostly in disbelief. 

“And yes, I will keep your secret if you want me to,” Harry added, shrugging. 

“Yes, please.”

Harry eyed him then nodded. “Very well then.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Lyanna…”

Elia watched as the other woman stared out at the practice field before them. Ser Jaime and Ser Harry were sparring in the mid morning sun and Lyanna was watching them wistfully, holding Jon in her arms.

Aegon was in Elia’s arms, making content sleepy noises as he slept. Rhaenys was off playing with her cousin, Arianne.

“I want to learn how to wield a sword,” Lyanna finally spoke, turning to look at Elia. “I want to learn how to defend myself and others.”

“I do not see a problem with that, Lya,” Elia whispered, rocking Aegon a little as he squirmed. Jon stayed quiet in Lyanna’s arms, content to be held. “Dorne is not like the whole of Westeros. Mayhaps Arthur can teach you.”

Lyanna nodded, peering down at Jon and smiling slightly. “We have spent a month in Dorne but if you would like us to leave… I can see now that Rhaegar and I were wrong to escape our problems the way we did. Perhaps if he had left me in the capital-”

Elia shook her head, grimacing. Harry was mainly fighting defensively, with Jaime trying to land a blow. “You would not have lasted in the capital. King Aerys was very unstable by then and he burned many people to death. You were safer at the Tower. Though Rhaegar could have taken you to Dragonstone. That would have been safer.”

Lyanna sighed, dropping her head on Elia’s shoulder. “Our actions led to my brother and father’s deaths. I feel like I should go back to Winterfell but I do not…”

“You do not want to remarry,” Elia finished quietly, gazing down at the other woman next to her. Her heart beat quickly at the thought of Lyanna leaving Dorne, at the thought of the only other person who knew Rhaegar as she did leaving. Lyanna was beautiful, a she-wolf who didn’t want to be tamed. Doran hadn’t even brought up having Elia remarry. “As I do.”

Lyanna shook her head, letting Jon grab a hold of one of her fingers. “I do not.”

“Well, perhaps you can be my sworn shield,” Elia finally spoke, hesitant but confident all the same. “When you finish learning how to wield a sword.”

  


* * *

 

 

The days started to flow, much like the desert winds, as time went by. They heard of Lord Tywin’s marriage to Lady Amarei Crakehall a month later and Jaime fought harder when he sparred with his brothers of the kingsguard on the days following that news. And on others, he couldn’t sleep for nightmares of the king and his wildfire plot ripped through his dreams.

He could feel Elia looking at him in concern and shrugged off the princess’ questions. In the following weeks nearing the end of the year, they received more news, news of King Robert’s marriage to Lady Cersei Lannister. Jaime had stiffened when they had received that letter and had gotten thoroughly distracted sparring against Ser Gerold. Little Rhaenys had cheered him on regardless though, sitting on the bench across from the practice field with her septa.

“Ser Jaime!”

He turned from where he was standing, glanced to Ser Gerold briefly, before looking to Maester Myles. The maester held a letter in his hands and Myles stopped a few feet from Jaime, handing the letter to him. “It’s from a Lannister.”

Jaime stilled momentarily before taking the letter from the maester and walked over to sit on the bench. Rhaenys shuffled over to him, peering at the letter curiously.

Jaime stared down at Rhaenys, raising an eyebrow. Rhaenys stared back, giggled then stood up and ran off, yelling for her mother and her cousin, Arianne. Ser Gerold grinned and walked over to stand by Jaime, looking down at him. Jaime had to shield his eyes from the sun as he glanced up at his commander.

“Letter from your father?”

Jaime nodded as he opened it, his heart beating ever so quickly as he realized it was from his sister.

_Dear brother,_

_I have not heard from you since before the Rebellion. Father says you’re a traitor but I know better. You’re just planning on spying on the Targaryens, aren’t you? Perhaps we can see each other soon if you just come back to King’s Landing and guard my husband, the new king._

_I can’t stand Robert but I think of you when we share a bed. We’re supposed to be the golden twins and you deserted me. You made Father marry some other woman just because you wanted to save the life of the Dornish princess and her two Targaryen dragonspawn. To think, Prince Rhaegar and King Aerys thought that bitch was better than me…_

_King Robert did agree to pardon you, should you come back promptly. And you can see me again._

_Your loving sister,_

_Cersei_

 

Jaime stared down at the letter, feeling his fingers start to shake. He could see Ser Gerold and Ser Arthur out of the corner of his eyes and Prince Oberyn, who had wanted to spar with the Sword of the Morning. No one else knew that he and Cersei fucked each other and loved each other and preferably, it would stay that way.

He hadn’t known what to feel when they had received word that Cersei had married Robert.

The clanging of a sword hitting metal rang through the air and he watched as Ser Arthur fought Prince Oberyn. The prince was using a spear and Arthur was using Dawn and the two seemed to dance under the sun.

Cersei thought he had brought the princess and her children to Dorne just to spy on them. She had called Elia a worse word than dragonspawn and here Jaime was, watching over little Rhaenys, Aegon and Jon. They weren’t dragonspawn. They were just children who had lost their father and their home. Though Jon hadn’t known a home to begin with, being born in the midst of a war and in a tower.

“Jaime?”

The sound of booted footsteps in sand drew his attention to where Harry had sat down beside him. The man was clothed in loose, light colored clothes, the tunic and leggings that he had seen many Dornish wear. It made him look like one of the native Dornish, instead of a Tyrell.

“Ser Harlan.”

He peered over to look at Harry, watching as the other man’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re in a mood then. Is that a letter from Lord Tywin?”

Jaime hesitated, watched as Arthur and Oberyn moved even faster. “It is from a Lannister.”

Harry sighed. “From your sister then?”

Jaime said nothing and closed up the letter, tucked it into a pocket.

“Prince Doran has said that he has received word from one of his bannermen,” Harry finally said after a few minutes of silence. “Ser Gerold!”

Gerold Hightower walked over to them from where he had gone to stand in the corner. “What is it?”

“Jon Arryn has traveled to the edge of the Dornish marches,” Harry spoke, standing up and dropping his hand on to the sword at his hip. “He’s to be Hand of the King to Robert.”

“What does the Vale lord want, did the prince say?” Gerold asked, looking down at Jaime before calling a halt to Arthur and Oberyn’s spar.

“I would have won,” Oberyn remarked good-naturedly, sweaty and breathing heavily.

Arthur grinned. “So you say.”

Gerold’s lips twitched up into a small grin. “Lord Arryn has arrived in Dorne.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed and Oberyn’s hold on his spear tightened.

“Your brother said that Lord Arryn wants to make peace on behalf of his king,” Harry explained. “King Robert knows that we have Elia and her children.”

“No armies will be able to get through the passes,” Oberyn said, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of a fight. “The Targaryens did not succeed and they had dragons.”

“Somewhere in the near future I could hatch some dragons for the children,” Harry commented idly. “It would improve our chances of success of putting one of them on the throne.”

Gerold, Oberyn, Arthur, and Jaime all stared at him, their eyes wide.

“What?” Harry stared at all four of them, dropped his hands to his sides idly.

“You speak as if you know you can hatch dragons,” Gerold spoke, his brown eyes wide.

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Harry offered, grinning a little. “But back to the pressing news. Jon Arryn will want to talk with Prince Doran, probably to see if the Dornish can not go to war. Or I don’t know. Maybe Robert wants Dorne to open their borders again.”

Jaime stared at him, blinking, before sighing. “Thank the seven Aerys didn’t know you could do that.”

“I don’t think the the realm would have survived,” Harry said, grimacing. “That’s why I didn’t want to hatch anything while Aerys was still alive.”

Arthur’s shoulders dropped and he looked over to where Rhaenys was playing with Arianne. “Rhaegar would have enjoyed having dragons again. But his time is over. Time for his children to rise.”

 

* * *

 

 

After a few days of talking, Prince Doran agreed to host Lord Jon Arryn for a few days. It was the start of a new year, 284 years after Aegon the Conqueror took Westeros and already four months since Robert was named king. Doran watched from the entryway to the palace, with Areo Hotah behind him. The children and their mothers were hidden away with Princess Arianne Martell and the four kingsguard knights. Everyone knew that it was likely that Robert and Lord Arryn knew the children were here in Dorne but they meant to keep the new king guessing. For all Robert might know, the kids were in Essos, not in Dorne.

Ser Harlan Tyrell stood on Doran’s other side, the man’s hawk friend circling above the party of House Arryn guards. Lord Jon Arryn was in the front of his guards, peering over at Areo and Harry. The company had arrived in Sunspear right before the sun passed over the horizon, leaving the sky dark.

The new Hand of the King dismounted and walked over to meet them, his eyes on them.

“I welcome you to Sunspear, Lord Arryn,” Doran finally spoke, stepping down the three steps to greet Lord Jon Arryn. “I hope your travels went well?”

“They did. Thank you,” Jon remarked.

  


* * *

 

 

A few minutes later, the three of them were settled in Doran’s meeting chamber. Servants came into bring food and water and as soon as everyone had a drink, Doran spoke up.

“What news do you bring from King Robert?”

Jon sighed but stayed calm, patient, his shoulders open and his arms on his lap. “Robert wants Dorne to open their borders again. He also wants Rhaenys as a hostage.”

Doran dipped his head in a slight nod, his eyes narrowing slightly. “The children are in Essos. We do not have them.”

Jon blinked. “We know Viserys and Daenerys are in Essos but we have not seen Rhaenys and Aegon in any of the free cities.”

Out of the corner of Jon’s eyes, he saw Ser Harlan Tyrell’s eyes narrow in thought.

“Lady Olenna sends wishes for you to go home, Ser Harlan,” Jon spoke. “King Robert wants to name you to the kingsguard.”

“I have no particular interest in joining the kingsguard,” Ser Harlan said, taking a sip of water and brushing a strand of his black hair back. “I want a family of my own and that wouldn’t be possible in the kingsguard.”

“Ah, that is right. You are one of the witchborn. Second son of Lady Olenna Tyrell. You were seen in the capital when Lord Tywin was there,” Jon said, glancing to Doran with a questioning look. “One of the servants also saw Ser Jaime and the king.”

“Is Ser Jaime back with the kingsguard?” Doran asked, looking at Jon Arryn with narrowed dark eyes. “We have not heard of his whereabouts other than he is missing.”

“He was seen leaving the city,” Jon agreed. “However, the servant that we spoke with… has said that Ser Jaime killed the king. He may have wanted to escape.”

Doran blinked. “Ser Jaime is the one who killed the king? He is one of the kingsguard. I was under the belief that Ser Gregor killed the king.”

“We are not able to question Lord Tywin’s bannermen as Gregor is dead. As is Ser Amory Lorch. But the servant was quite adamant about Ser Jaime killing the king. The servant said that she saw Jaime impale the king from behind.”

 

* * *

  


As soon as Jon Arryn was seen to his guest quarters, Doran stood up, looked right at Ser Harry. “You knew.”

Harry sighed and nodded. “I did. He told me a few weeks ago. The king was going to blow up King’s Landing with wildfire. Aerys didn’t want the city to fall to Robert and if it did, it wouldn’t be a city anymore. If Aerys had succeeded and if Jaime hadn’t killed him, Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon wouldn’t be here. The population of King’s Landing would be what… five?”

Doran stared at him, frowning. “I need to tell the others. They will want to know what happened during the meeting.”

“Gerold, Arthur and Oswell won’t like it.”

“I don’t like it but unofficially I do appreciate Jaime’s actions,” Doran replied, looking over to Areo. “If Jon Arryn knows, the rest of Westeros probably knows of his actions too. They’ll name him kingslayer.”

“You’re not going to have him arrested him, are you?” Harry questioned warily, already mapping out an escape route for him and Jaime. Hedwig was mantling outside on the branch, able to feel Harry’s anxiousness.

“No.”

 

* * *

  
  


Harry followed Prince Doran through the palace, to Doran’s secret chamber where Elia, Lyanna, Aegon, Rhaenys, Jon, Arthur, Jaime, Oswell, Gerold and Oberyn were. The two women were sitting on the one couch together, with their children spread between them. The four knights of the kingsguard were flanking Elia and Lyanna and they all looked up as Harry and Doran entered.

“What did Lord Arryn want?” Elia asked, the first one to speak.

Doran sighed. “King Robert wants Dorne to open its’ borders.”

Harry walked over to stand next to Jaime, meeting the other man’s eyes. Jaime was the nearest to the door, his hand on his blade.

“That’s all?” Prince Oberyn asked, looking briefly at Harry before looking at his brother.

“He also wants Rhaenys as a hostage,” Doran said, crossing his arms. “I also said that the children were in Essos.”

Elia grimaced at that. “I will never let Robert have any of my children or Lyanna’s.”

“Did Jon say anything about me?” Lyanna asked. “I did write my brother but…”

“He said nothing. The only people who know about your child are us and your brother,” Doran said.

“Lady Olenna knows,” Harry added, glancing to Lyanna. “She won’t tell anyone.”

“You trust your mother?”

“I do. She knows about my magic.”

Lyanna nodded. “Alright. I trust you, Ser Harlan.”

“Good to know,” Harry replied.

Lyanna grinned.

Doran cleared his throat and turned to look at Ser Jaime, who stiffened.

“Ser Jaime… Lord Arryn also spoke of your deed.”

“His deed? You mean to speak of Ser Jaime getting your family out of King’s Landing?” Ser Gerold questioned, looking between Jaime and Doran.

“I’m afraid the whole of Westeros knows of the kingslayer by now.”

Gerold’s eyes widened and Arthur and Oswell turned to their brother.

“You killed the king?” Ser Gerold questioned, taking a step towards Jaime.

“I did,” Jaime finally spoke, his voice a little shaky but otherwise firm. “The king would have blown up more than half of King’s Landing with wildfire if I had not.”

“You are a knight of the kingsguard, Ser Jaime. We do not judge the king,” Ser Gerold said. “We are to protect the king or queen, not kill him.”

“Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon would not have been alive if I had just stood there!” Jaime exclaimed, his eyes narrowing and breathing heavily. “King Aerys was raping the queen during the Rebellion. He was burning people alive! I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing!”

Gerold, Oswell and Arthur stood there, all staring at Jaime.

“Who’s to say you would not do this again? We cannot trust you with the lives of the children now,” Gerold spoke. “We cannot let an oathbreaker stay among us. Ser Jaime, you are hereby stripped of your rank and title.”

 

* * *

  
  


Elia watched as Jaime froze, his eyes going wide. Harry let out a quiet but sharp inhale and stepped forward, wrapping a hand around Jaime’s shoulder and tugging the man out of the room.

“Ser Gerold,” Elia started, once Jaime and Harry were out of the room.

“No. We cannot trust him with the children’s lives,” Gerold spoke, looking to Arthur and Oswell. They both dipped their heads in a nod, agreeing with their Lord Commander. “He killed King Aerys when he was meant to protect him. We swear an oath before the king or queen.”

  


* * *

 

 

Hedwig met them at the door of the palace and landed on Jaime’s shoulder, crooning softly. Jaime didn’t even react to the hawk and Harry flinched, keeping pace with the man. Jaime had already thrown off his white cloak, leaving it at the palace door.

“I knew that would happen.”

“You could still be their sworn shield,” Harry offered quietly, as they walked.

“No. I couldn’t bear to be around Gerold, Arthur and Oswell and not be a knight of the kingsguard. Why are you even walking with me?” Jaime asked. “I am the kingslayer after all.”

Harry rolled his eyes, glancing up to the stars above them before looking at Jaime again. “I know why you did it, Jaime. You shouldn’t expect anything but understanding from me.”

Jaime finally seemed to realize he had a hawk on his shoulder, his eyes widening a little. “She’s your hawk. Why is she on my shoulder?”

“I think she likes you,” Harry offered, his lips twitching up into a grin. “Jaime, Lord Arryn told us something else.”

“Yeah? Was it that everything is my fault?”

“No.” Harry tugged Jaime to a stop as they reached their quarters. “Viserys and Daenerys. They’re alive and in Essos. You could still guard Rhaegar’s family.”

Jaime blinked. “I could… They don’t even have a knight of the kingsguard with them.”

“I, of course, would go with you,” Harry offered, grinning a little. “They probably don’t even have a maester or anyone else other than whoever got them off Dragonstone.”

Jaime stared at him, his eyes lighting up a little and snorted. “Alright. We’re going to Essos then.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Ser Harlan.”

Harry turned to look at where Elia was standing behind him, Aegon in her arms. Lyanna was right next to Elia, holding Jon in her arms. Rhaenys was standing between them, peering up at Harry and pouting. The three members of the kingsguard were shadowing them, looking on the man behind Harry with disapproval.

Harry knew that Arthur, Oswell and Gerold were not going to kill Jaime but there was still that slight chance that they would. Jaime had killed the king, after taking an oath to protect him. Jaime hadn’t even spoken to Gerold, Oswell or Arthur since they had stripped him of the title. 

They were standing at the docks, in front of the ship they were going to take to Braavos. From there, they would figure out where Ser Willem and Rhaegar’s siblings were.

“Elia?”

“I apologize for what happened,” Elia offered quietly, her dark eyes narrowed in thought. “I would trust Ser Jaime with my life and with my children’s lives.”

“He expected it,” Harry replied, hearing Jaime walk up to stand next to him. 

“I am not going to apologize for killing the king,” Jaime retorted, crossing his arms. “He would have destroyed King’s Landing and killed everyone in the keep.”

“I am not asking you to apologize. You and Ser Harlan saved my life and the life of my children. Ser Jaime, you saved half a million people. I am sure Ser Willem will be glad of your presence.”

“He probably will,” Harry said, looking between Elia and Jaime before pulling out a spelled hand held mirror from a pocket. “Elia… Here.”

Elia reached out to take it from him, looking it over before raising an eyebrow. “A mirror?”

“It will allow us to communicate quickly between ourselves,” Harry explained, pulling out his counterpart mirror. “You can just say my name and I’ll instantly be able to hear you and see you. It’s like an instant raven. My mother has one too, that we use to communicate.”

“You really trust Lady Olenna over your brother?” Elia questioned, peering at Harry curiously. The Dornish sailors on the ship behind them whistled out at them, with the captain yelling at them that the ship was ready.

“I do. My brother, Mace… He’s not very intelligent, politics wise. My sisters are fine, one’s married to Lord Redwyne and the other to Lord Fossoway. But yes. The Tyrells stand willing to support the Targaryens when we collectively decide to. We fought for Rhaegar and we will fight again,” Harry remarked, glancing to Jaime before looking at Elia and Lyanna. 

 

* * *

  
  
  


“I’ve never been on a ship before,” Harry spoke from where he was by the railing. Jaime stared at his friend before walking over to stand next to him, looking back at Dorne. They had left an hour ago and now were sailing through the Stepstones, avoiding the many islands of the area.  

The ship that they were on was a trading ship, one that often made its’ way to Sunspear to sell its’ wares. The captain had been slightly wary to take the two of them onboard, as Jaime was considered the kingslayer and a traitor and Harry was well known. And maybe Harry was considered a traitor to the new king but not too his mother. Not to Prince Doran or Lady Olenna or Lord Eddard Stark.

“Nor have I,” Jaime commented, raising his voice a little over the waves. 

“Did you know Ser Willem?” Harry asked, turning to look at him, his hands on the railing. 

“He was the master at arms in the keep,” Jaime answered, seeing one of the sailors glance at them out of the corner of his eyes. “He was a good enough man, I suppose. Loyal to House Targaryen.”

“Very loyal. It must have been hard to smuggle Viserys and Daenerys out of Dragonstone those few weeks ago. What with Queen Rhaella dying in childbirth and that big storm…”

“King Aerys should have sent Princess Elia with her,” Jaime said wearily. “He was using her as a hostage against the Dornish turning against him. He was using me as a hostage against my father.”

“King Aerys should have done a lot of things,” Harry remarked, shrugging. “It’s no use thinking of the past now.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Were you betrothed to anyone?” Jaime asked, a few days and miles of sea later. They had just passed Storm’s End and the isle of Tarth two days ago, their ship giving the area a wide berth. The sun had gone down a half hour ago and the stars were coming out. Sailors had lit torches on the ship and down in the cabins. Their ship had no house banner showing, just a banner of the traders. 

“No. You?”

“My father tried to get me to wed one of the Tully girls,” Jaime commented, crossing his arms. “But I didn’t want to marry a girl. Cersei offered to get me a place on the kingsguard instead.”

You weren’t going to be betrothed to Catelyn Tully?”

“No. Lysa.”

“Right. She’s now wed to Jon Arryn, if I heard correctly.” Harry saw some whales breach in the water a few feet from the ship and grinned. Hedwig was asleep in Harry’s cabin, preferring to stay where she would not get wet. “My mother didn’t want to betroth me to anyone as she knew right from the start that I was destined for greater things. My magic told her that.”

“Well, you’re not a knight of the kingsguard anymore. Do you have someone in mind?” Harry questioned, leaning against the wall of his cabin. The captain had insisted on giving Harry his own cabin after learning that he was one of the witchborn. Something about the captain unwilling to have his sailors impregnate him onboard. Harry hadn’t particularly cared though, having gotten used to the Westerosi prejudice against his kind. “Some girl or another witchborn lad?”

Jaime turned to look at him, raised an eyebrow. “Who says I’m looking? I’m perfectly fine where I am. Defending the rest of Rhaegar’s family. I’m committing treason just by doing this.”

“We’re both committing treason. Besides, you care about Elia and her babes, right?”

“Of course I do. I just…”

“You’re leaving someone behind. A lover?” Harry asked, grinning a little.

Jaime’s cheeks reddened. “No… My sister.”

Harry blinked. “You care for her then.”

“It’s none of your business.”

Harry sighed, looking the other man over. Jaime looked a deer in headlights or mayhaps like a lion in headlights. “Alright! I didn’t mean to pry. It’s getting late anyway. See you in the morning.”

 

* * *

  
  


They skirted around King’s Landing and Dragonstone over the next few days. Harry stayed on top of the ship, preferring the sights of the ocean and the coastal inlands of Essos. Jaime was quiet, once or twice sparring with a sailor. 

They arrived in Braavos a week and a half after setting sail from Sunspear. Harry stared up at the Titan of Braavos as they passed underneath it, his eyes wide with awe.  It was late morning as the ship dropped anchor in Braavos’ port, taking care to not attract too much attention. The sun was shining in the somewhat cloudy sky, with misty fog swirling around the city. 

Harry paid the sailors the rest of the money that they were owed and followed Jaime down onto the docks, looking around the city in front of them. It looked to be made of homes and buildings that had canals in between them. It looked a little like Venice had, back in his first life. 

There were definitely more than a few temples around, to various gods and goddesses. 

“Right. We should start somewhere,” Jaime muttered, dropping his hand down to his sword as some sell swords walked towards them. 

Harry snorted, watching as Hedwig took off from the railing of the ship and flew into and over the city. “It should be pretty easy to find two Targaryens. It’s not like we’re in Pentos or Lys.”

“Thank the seven for that.”

They both took off, starting off on one path off the docks, peering down alleyways and listening to city gossip. They had packed their armor in their trunks, better to go unseen without the golden armor of a Lannister or Tyrell or the white cloak of a former kingsguard. Harry had then shrunk the trunks and tucked them into a pocket, next to the elder wand. 

It took them well into the afternoon to find Ser Willem and the two children. They had gotten something to eat for the midday meal and then had run into Prince Viserys quite accidentally. The boy had just left the establishment with a package of food, a sullen frown on his face. 

“Prince Viserys?” Jaime tried, stepping in front of the boy and dropping a hand on his shoulder.

Viserys startled so badly his body began to tremble in fright. 

Jaime winced and withdrew his hand. Viserys blinked, his pale lavender eyes widening in recognition.

“Ser Jaime? Have you come to take us back? Robert stole the throne.”

“I have not come take you back to Westeros,” Jaime answered, gesturing to Harry. “I brought Ser Harlan Tyrell with me. We’re here to protect you and your sister.”

“Protect? We have Ser Willem.”

“Yes, but do you have a tutor or a healer?” Harry questioned, kneeling to look Viserys in the eye. “Let’s go see your sister and Ser Willem.”

“Ser Harlan Tyrell? Aren’t you one of the witchborn? Those men aren’t to be trusted!” Viserys exclaimed, his eyes narrowing. 

“I trust him,” Jaime said, frowning. “Will you take us to Ser Willem?”

Viserys looked between them and finally nodded. Jaime stood up, taking the package of food from the boy and Harry followed the boy, eying the streets. They seemed to be safe enough; they hadn’t heard or seen anything amiss.

A few minutes from the tavern and they arrived at the home of Ser Willem. It was a big house with a red door and a lemon tree in the courtyard. 

“Ser Willem!” Viserys yelled out, looking into one of the windows. “Ser Jaime is here!”

They heard crying come from another window and Harry exchanged glances with Jaime. It was probably Princess Daenerys Stormborn, the little girl that Rhaella had died giving birth to. Daenerys had been born two weeks after Robert had taken the throne so she must have been at least three months old. 

The door opened and a grizzled old man stepped out, his eyes weary. He blinked and his eyes widened when he saw Jaime. 

“Ser Jaime!”

Jaime walked over and shook Ser Willem’s hand, gestured over to Harry. “Ser Willem, this is Ser Harlan Tyrell. He’s come to help. We’ve come here to help protect Rhaegar’s siblings.”

Ser Willem’s eyes widened even further and they heard another cry. Harry winced a little, unable to ignore a babe’s cry. “Do you have a wetnurse for the princess?”

“We do. Aren’t you…”

“Yes, I’m one of the witchborn. I don’t have any milk for the girl though. I haven’t had a child recently. Though…” Harry trailed off, thinking of the wetness against his tunic last night. “Mayhaps I do. Could be my body knowing that Daenerys would be a babe. I’ll take over.”

Willem blinked but nodded. 

“That’s probably for the best anyway,” Harry offered, already stepping into the home and through the door. He turned back to look at Jaime and Willem. “We can’t trust everyone to have good motives regarding the children. I hear Robert’s got a bounty out for them anyway.”

“Bounty?” Willem repeated. “How did you two know about me and the children?”

“Lord Arryn. We were in Dorne when the Vale lord arrived to talk with Prince Doran,” Jaime explained, his eyes catching Harry’s. “Ser Willem, Rhaenys and Aegon are alive too. So is Princess Elia.”

Willem’s eyes widened even more and they softened a little. “I’m glad to know that. What else did Lord Arryn say?”

Harry left Jaime and Willem to it and walked into the home, with Viserys following him. 

“What are witchborn men anyway?” Viserys questioned, peering up at him with wide eyes.

Harry stopped as soon as they turned into another hallway, hearing Daenerys cry out again. He knelt down, to be at face level with the boy, and raised an eyebrow. “You said witchborn men aren’t to be trusted and then you don’t know who we are?”

“Father said they weren’t to be trusted,” Viserys replied, crossing his short arms. He was an eight year old child, one who had lived with Aerys and the court for all of his life. Harry presumed that Rhaella had tried to shelter him from his father’s chaos but by Viserys’ expression, maybe she hadn’t been very successful.

“Witchborn men can carry babes,” Harry explained, brushing some of Viserys’ silver hair back from his forehead. The prince’s eyes weren’t as dark as Rhaegar’s but they could darken as Viserys grew. “We can have children. Aegon the Third bore a child, if I recall correctly. Your grand uncle was witchborn and my mother was betrothed to her before they knew. My mother broke it off once they knew.”

Viserys stared at him, blinked once or twice. Daenerys let out a cry again and Viserys winced. “She’s really loud.”

Harry let out a quiet laugh. “That’s what babes do. They cry loudly for attention or when they’re hungry. Come on.”

Viserys nodded and led him through the hallway and into a room that looked out over the courtyard. Harry could see the lemon tree through the window, a tall thing that already had fruit on it. The room consisted of a cradle with the princess in it and a rocking chair. 

Harry stepped over to the cradle and peered over into it, looking Princess Daenerys over. She seemed a healthy babe as she stopped crying to look at him. “Hey, sweetling.”

Daenerys had light lavender eyes and silver tufts of hair, her eyes boring straight into him in curiosity. She was clothed in a red cloak and black child’s tunic, one that didn’t really fit her. He scooped her up and walked over to sit on the wooden rocking chair, opened up his own tunic and brought her in to feed. Her eyes closed in content and the babe sighed and began to feed.

He let her feed for as long as she wanted, his body providing. Viserys watched, his eyes staring at him. “Isn’t that what women do though?”

“It is. Even the maesters don’t have answers to how we can do this,” Harry offered, rubbing Daenerys’ back as she eventually pulled away. “Does Ser Willem have a tutor or maester here?”

“Why?”

“So you can learn of Westeros,” Harry replied easily, studying Viserys before wrapping Daenerys up and holding her as she fell back asleep. “It’s what noble born children learn.”

“We don’t have a maester here. We’re supposed to not draw attention,” Viserys said, shrugging before scowling. “Robert the Usurper. He stole our home.”

“I’ll be your maester then. I don’t have a chain but I know a great deal about our home land.”

Viserys stared at him before nodded. “Okay. Are you betrothed to Ser Jaime?”

Harry blinked, feeling his cheeks redden. “No! What gave you that idea?”

“You came together.”

“As much as I think he’s handsome, we’re not betrothed,” Harry grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Now go tell Jaime about what we talked about. I’m sure there are two more rooms in this home for the two of us.”


	7. Chapter 7

When Ned had ridden up the short hill that preceded the lone tower, he did not know what to expect. He rode with Howland Reed, the lord of Greywater, Lord William Dustin, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, Theo Wull and Ser Mark Ryswell, all of them fine northern men and lords. 

It was hot and humid in the Red Mountains of Dorne as they halted their horses at the top, before the tower. Sweat poured down Ned’s neck as he dismounted, his hand on Ice, the ancestral blade of House Stark. 

“Ser Barristan did say that Prince Rhaegar took your sister to the tower,” Howland said, walking over to stand next to Ned. “He couldn’t have been wrong.”

Ned lifted his shoulders in a minute shrug and walked over to the tower, noting the several other hoof prints in the dirt. “I agree. Let me look in the tower. They might be in there.”

Howland and the others followed him as he walked into the tower, looking up the set of stairs that circled around up to the top. Ned walked up the tower, looking for any evidence that his sister had been here and finding nothing. Once they reached the chamber at the top, Ned looked around at it, seeing the bed and the dresser cabinet. 

“Lord Stark… The bed...” Howland trailed off, gesturing to the bed and the scroll of paper on top of it. 

Ned hurried over, hearing Howland walk over to look out of the window, and picked up the piece of parchment. The wolf seal was holding the paper together and Ned slit it with a tip of a dagger borrowed from Howland. 

* * *

  
  


_ Dear Ned, _

_ Don’t worry about me. I am fine. Princess Elia and her babes came two weeks ago and I have decided to go with them back to Dorne. I do not want to marry Robert, whether he is the new king or not. I want privacy for a while and no men and women to judge me for my decision to run away with Prince Rhaegar.  _

_ Ser Harlan Tyrell and Ser Jaime came with them too, having rescued Elia from the Mountain and the rest of the Lannister men. Ser Harlan saved my life without thought to any kind of politics. Rhaegar had gotten me with child before he left and we had wed before he had left. His child is Prince Jon Targaryen and will leave with me and will grow up with his siblings. I was dying and Ser Harlan was able to make sure I met my son. _

_ Please don’t think ill of me for being the cause of this war. I just… Father had too many ambitions and I wanted nothing of it. I just wanted to see the world and Rhaegar offered that. He was kind and gentle and honorable, unlike Robert. I would have never made Robert happy and he would have never made me happy. _

_ I will go back home at some point, to see you as Lord of Winterfell, and baby Benjen. The North is and always will be my home. For now, Elia was gracious enough to invite me to her home in Dorne. I never wanted to hurt her. Jon will grow up with Rhaenys and Aegon and with his mother there to see him. _

_ The rest of Rhaegar’s kingsguard will follow us to Dorne too and at some point, guard the next Targaryen to sit the throne. Whether it will be Rhaenys or Aegon, I do not know at this time. I will send my next letters to you through Lady Olenna Tyrell, for Harlan says we can trust her. I hope Lady Catelyn will be a good wife to you and good Lady of Winterfell. _

_ Your sister, _

_ Lyanna Stark _

 

* * *

 

 

Ned sighed and read through the letter again, noting that he had a nephew now. He hoped Lyanna was having fun in Dorne, mayhaps learning how to fight like she had wanted to. He knew they would protect her there, with three of the best knights in Westeros and Ser Jaime Lannister. He knew now that the youngest member of the kingsguard, Jaime, had killed the king. He wondered how the man had made that decision, forsaking his oath as kingsguard. The Lannisters had never really had any honor and that act had proved it.

Ned didn’t know much about the Tyrells but with Lyanna saying that they were to be trusted, he might send them a letter or two. Perhaps a future betrothal between them was to be considered. 

Ned tucked the letter into a pocket and turned to Howland, seeing his best friend look at him curiously. “Lyanna had a son.”

Howland raised an eyebrow, the short man having to look up at Ned. “Rhaegar’s child?”

Ned dipped his head in a nod, knowing he could trust Howland. Lyanna had taken it on herself to punish the Frey squires who had bullied the crannogman when no one else had. “Yes. They’re in Dorne now. Safe, with Princess Elia and her children.”

“You had best not tell Robert that,” Howland remarked, looking to the north before looking at Ned again. “He knows the Targaryen children got away but he would be loathe to know that Lyanna escaped too.”

“Or he wouldn’t want to marry my sister anymore. Rhaegar did…” Ned trailed off, grimacing. “My sister is not clean anymore. That’s what Robert would think.”

“Alright. You just don’t talk about Lyanna then. No mention of her whenever you and Robert meet again. Robert’s king now and will probably be very busy.”

Ned nodded, glancing out at the opposite window to see his men and friends below. “At least I can return Lord Willam back to his wife, Barbrey. She will appreciate that.”

“She wanted to wed Brandon, didn’t she? Your father wasn’t much of a man to appreciate the wants of women,” Howland replied, shrugging a little. “I am very much looking forward to seeing my Jyana again.”

“Let’s go home then,” Ned said, patting his pocket where the letter was. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Viserys stared up at Ser Jaime, watching his green eyes widen a little. “Was it something I said? Harry said to tell you what we talked of. Surely there was nothing bad about that.”

Jaime blinked, his mouth opening a little then closing just as promptly. His cheeks had reddened a little and Viserys was unsure why. His mother had had red in her cheeks whenever his father did anything. “Is he feeding your sister?”

Viserys raised an eyebrow, wondering why Jaime had changed the subject. Surely talking of maesters and betrothals wasn’t bad? “Yes. Daenerys isn’t as loud now.”

Jaime grinned a little, glancing at Ser Willem. “I would think so. Ser Willem, would you mind the two of us staying in your manor? We can aid you in protecting the children.”

“I’m not a child! I’m a dragon!”

“Of course, Prince Viserys,” Jaime remarked, his eyes narrowing. “It looks like you had bought food for dinner. Did the cook ask you to do that?”

“Illera told me to. I shouldn’t have to though!”

“All princes help with chores from time to time,” Jaime said, kneeling down so that Viserys didn’t have to look up. “Even your brother did.”

Viserys blinked, his eyes widening before narrowing. “He did?”

“Yes, he did. Rhaegar was ever the helpful prince,” Willem answered, glancing down at them. “He wanted to help your mother.”

Viserys nodded, his heart flipping in his chest. “I miss mother.”

“I miss her too, little one,” Willem replied gently, reaching down to pat Viserys’ shoulder. “I miss her too.”

“Let’s go see if Ser Jaime can have a room, hmm?” Willem questioned, reaching out.

“Let’s give him the worst room ever!” Viserys exclaimed, smiling widely and grabbing Willem’s hand and following the older knight.

“Let’s not,” Jaime muttered, his lips moving into a small grin even as he sighed and stood back up. Hedwig flew over from the lemon tree, having landed there after exploring the manor, and screeched lightly. He reached up to stroke her white feathers, the hawk nuzzling into his hand. 

Viserys had said that Harry had said he thought Jaime was handsome. “Huh.”

He had never really looked at men the same way Cersei drew his attention but he did get red whenever Prince Oberyn had come back from a brothel, loud and full of details. Mayhaps it was just his want for his sister but it had been a while since he had fucked Cersei.

  
  


* * *

 

 

“Mother always sang a song,” Viserys whispered, as Harry tucked the boy into bed later that night. The sun had gone down and the stars were out, shining down onto the Titan of Braavos. Through the window in Viserys’ room, they could see the tall, stone man guarding Braavos and hear it roar. Torches lit the Titan, making the protector of Braavos glow lightly.

“I may not be your mother but I could tell you a story of Westerosi history,” Harry offered, pulling over the chair in the corner and sitting down. 

Viserys stared at him, blinking his light lavender eyes sleepily. “Okay.”

Harry smiled and began to talk of Oldtown and of the fame of the Hightower. He had squired for Lord Leyton Hightower so he knew the city intimately. He talked of the history of the Reach, of their relationship with the Tyrells and with the Targaryens. He spoke of how Aegon the Conqueror had been crowned by the High Septon in the Starry Sept in Oldtown. 

Viserys fell asleep sometime between Aegon’s crowning and the First Dornish war, still looking up admiringly at Harry. The boy had snuggled under the furs, clinging onto the stuffed dragon that Harry had bought him. Harry stood up and stretched, glancing over to Jaime, who was standing in the doorway. “I’ll sleep in Dany’s room for now. She’s still young.”

Jaime nodded, his eyes staring at Harry curiously in the relatively dark hallway. “Willem suggested that I find some work with the Sealord of Braavos.”

“I can protect the two children while you’re gone during the day. It’s a good idea,” Harry remarked, shrugging minutely. “We won’t likely need their ships when the time comes but the Iron Bank would finance our fight to sit Aegon on the throne.”

“Viserys said you thought I was handsome. A lion.”

Harry blinked and moved forward, closing the distance between them and pressing his lips to Jaime’s briefly before pulling away. “I’d be open to bedding you, if you want. But not now. I’m tired and I think I hear Princess Daenerys waking.”

Jaime nodded, his eyes wide, and a little stricken. “I don’t--”

“We don’t have to. It’d just be easier than going to a brothel, don’t you think? Safer too.”

“I’d like to,” Jaime finally spoke, his voice heated a little.

“Alright.” Harry winked at him then strode off, a grin on his lips.


End file.
